


Blown Away

by your_old_enemy



Series: Song - Inspired Short Stories [1]
Category: IT (2017)
Genre: Character Death, F/M, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Parent/Child Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-18 06:21:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16989672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/your_old_enemy/pseuds/your_old_enemy
Summary: As a twister tears through town, Beverly is left to either save the life of her abuser, or leave him for dead.





	Blown Away

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by 'Blown Away', by Carrie Underwood.
> 
> This work has heavily implied, slightly graphic rape elements, so please do not read if you may be triggered by this.

Beverly never had to tell any of her friends what went on behind closed doors at home, they all knew. They could tell from the size of the bruises, or the limp she’d walk with some mornings, even the way she would wince whenever she sat down but there wasn’t very much the six of them could do about it, but they all kept their bedroom windows unlocked for those nights that Bev managed to escape her father’s clutches and needed to find somewhere safe to sleep for the rest of the night.

 

Alvin Marsh was punishing his daughter for growing up, for becoming a woman - that’s what he would tell himself, anyway, despite hurting her long before she showed any signs of womanhood.Nights with her father, always made Beverly sick to her stomach and sometimes she could swallow it down and force herself just to fall asleep afterwards, but most nights she would throw up into her toilet and scrub her skin in the shower until it was red raw and bleeding. Bev envied how her father, her abuser, could just roll off of her and go to bed, or drink a beer and pass out on the couch like nothing had even happened. It had happened, though, and while it only lasted a number of minutes it felt like it lasted for hours, hours of agonising pain until she was finally left alone on her bed with tears on her face, bruises on her hips and blood on the insides of her thighs. 

 

Once the pain dulled to an ache, Bev got up and limped to the bathroom so that she could clean herself up. When she couldn’t feel him on her anymore, she finally got out of the water, dried off and got dressed in her favourite pyjamas for bed. On her way back to her bedroom, she heard the warning tone coming from the TV and it drew her curiously to the living room. There, she found her father completely comatose on the couch, beer bottle dangling precariously from his fingers while a weather warning played via an emergency broadcast warning everybody within thirty miles to take shelter for the storm that would come through the night. That was when Bev realised that she had a huge responsibility - it was her job to collect everything that they would never be able to replace and move it to the basement.. It was her job to wake her father and drag his drunken body to safety. She only wanted to do half of that job, she wanted to save her mother’s jewellery, baby pictures and the postcard that Ben had given her when they first met but she didn’t want to save her father.

 

There would never be enough rain to wash the sins out of that house, there wouldn’t ever be a wind strong enough to rip the nails out of Bev’s past. She wanted the twister to shatter every window, crumble every brick, snap every board and slam every door - she wanted all of it to be blown away until there was nothing left standing and all her tear-soaked memories were washed away. So, she stood there listening to the message repeat on the TV set and she listened to her father snoring until the sirens started blaring, and she decided to lock herself in the basement alone. Down there, she would be safe with all of the belongings that she wanted to keep forever, because that’s all she ever really needed. Down there, she listened to the screaming of the wind, and while some people would call this ‘taking shelter’, she called it Sweet Revenge.

 

Sleep wouldn’t claim Bev that night. Instead, she would sit in the farthest corner of the cellar huddled in her mother’s favourite sweater and clutching a photo album while she listened to the storm pass through town. When it finally passed and it was safe to come out, Bev made her way back up into the house, looking around the remains of her childhood home and began the search for her dad. It didn’t take long to find him beneath bricks and wooden beams that used to hold the house up, nothing more than a bloody corpse now that couldn’t ever hurt her again. Looking down at what was left of the man who helped create her, who rocked her to sleep as a baby but violated her as a girl she didn’t feel one ounce of guilt or remorse for what she had done. Instead, she finally felt free for the first time.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!  
> Leave me something to read and respond to, if you'd like!
> 
> ~ Hannah


End file.
